


Keeping the Faith: a Rilla of Ingleside sequel

by sparkles321



Category: Anne of Green Gables, Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Ingleside, Rainbow Valley, Rilla of Ingleside - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff, Anne of Green Gables - Freeform, Canada, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Historical, History, OC, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rilla of Ingleside, Romance, World War One, history geek, war romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6369151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkles321/pseuds/sparkles321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ingleside and the Manse pick up the shattered fragments left over from the War and begin rebuilding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. only the lonely

October 1919

_It has been nearly a year since the Armstice was signed - on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918, and the winds of change are blowing through Glen St. Mary._

The small house Una Meredith bought with the money Aunt Mary Martha willed to her was the first thing that had ever truly been hers.

It sits on a hilltop a little apart from the village, and she can look down and see the Glen and the glistening harbor beyond. The moment she steps inside the grey stone walls feel like they are welcoming her, and she knows it will be her new home.

"It seems to me, Mrs. Doctor Dear," said Susan Baker one warm evening, "that everyone with a trouble finds their way up to Una Meredith."

And she was right. Schoolgirls who took sewing classes from Una brought their little friends and confided in her all their woes. Small boys from her Sunday school told her details of schoolyard fights. Old women without anyone to gossip to found themselves unloading all their troubles - they knew she would never tell a soul.

In fact, Una Meredith was so good at being a trouble-keeper that it scarcely crossed anyone's mind that she herself might be lonely or hiding some tragic hurt.

Even Rilla Ford ( _nee_ Blythe), who had once noticed so much, forgot.

She came gliding up the hill one crisp autumn day - even as a newly married woman, there was still something in her manner that made you think she never walked but danced - breathless with excitement.

Una and Faith were having tea.

"Oh, sister Rilla," cried Faith, jumping up to hug her impetuously. "What a lovely day, isn't it!?" She received great joy from the fact they were all sisters now.

Una was just as sincere but a bit more reserved, in her quiet yet sweet manner. "I'm glad you have come. Won't you take tea?"

"Yes, please, dear. I've got the most exciting news. Ken and Jem are visiting at the mercantile, Faith. Jem said you were up here so I decided to pop in."

Faith clapped her hands delightedly. "Splendid! Now, here's the tea, let's have your news."

"Well..." Rilla beamed at them and placed one slim hand on her stomach. "Ken and I have found out we're going to have a baby."

Faith squealed and Una couldn't help but smile. "How wonderful!"

"How far along?"

"I'm only about 10 weeks. You're the first ones to know, outside of Dad and Mother. The instant I told Ken I thought I might be pregnant he rushed me off to Dad to be examined -as if I might break!"

"Jem's a worrier, too," confided Faith, "He acts as if I'll catch a chill and always wants to give me his coat."

She and Rilla laughed comfortably and Una wondered what it might be like to have a husband that fussed over you or be delightfully pregnant with a dear baby. For a fleeting moment, she felt jealous. The feeling was so foreign to her she felt as if she were committing a grave sin.

 It _was_ wonderful news, and she shouldn't let her own hurt get in the way. It was not as if there was anything one could do about it.

Thinking hard, she found a cheerful thought. "I know it's early yet, but I'll sew some baby clothes and we can add pink or blue ribbons to them after baby comes.

"Ooh, yes, let's!" Rilla and Faith chattered happily and Una was joyful with them. The sadness could be stowed away and taken out later, when they were gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to check out this Rilla of Ingleside playlist!
> 
> [And so, goodnight. {a walter x una playlist)](http://8tracks.com/somedaybeautiful/and-so-goodnight-a-walter-x-una-playlist?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button) from [somedaybeautiful](http://8tracks.com/somedaybeautiful?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button) on [8tracks Radio](http://8tracks.com?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button).


	2. but the tigers come at night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Notes:  
> *Parachutes for modern fixed wing aircraft did not come into play until the 1930's, on the eve of World War Two. It must have been quite terrifying for pilots of the Great War, without even a parachute to save them!
> 
> *PTSD was undiagnosed and known as simply 'shell shock', and many people thought it was concussions caused by shells used in trench warfare. When pilots and other soldiers who were not exposed to exploding shells experienced similar symptoms iit was realized shells were not the cause. People assumed that soldiers who experienced these symptoms were just cowardly and weak.
> 
> Treatment was brief, consisting only of a few days of comfort, with the “firm expectation that the soldier return to duty” (Because 65% of shell-shocked soldiers ultimately returned to the front lines (not wanting to leave their friends) it was assumed the treatment was a success.

 Shirley Blythe sat in his bedroom at Ingleside and listened to the pounding of his heart.  **It** was upon him again, the terrible, nameless fear choking him and pressing him down. All because an aereoplane had flown by and a few village boys were target practicing.

His head pounded and he drew his knees up to his chest. He had flown in one of those aereoplanes hadn't he? He had felt he ruled the world, until that terrible day his fuselage had been ripped by bullets and, flames licking at his neck, he'd spiraled downward through enemy fire. Somehow he'd managed to keep the little plane upright and gliding, smashing into some trees and then rolling down. All day he had hid in the bushes, and that night he dared sneak through enemy lines. 

 _The German sentry had spotted him almost instantly,_ he remembered _. It was a full moon and a terrible night for stealth. "Schnell! Schn-" the sentry screeched, lunging for his rifle. Shirley tackled him down and choked him, squeezing and squeezing until the life went out of him. Then he was off, running without any real thought to the danger. He had to force himself to still, to quiet his trembling body and hide in case anyone had heard the sentry's alarm._

_He suddenly felt very young and afraid. He wondered what Mother and Susan were doing now - probably baking monkey-faces to sell at the War Effort bake sale. He tried to picture them, safe and happy at home, with Dad just coming up the walk carrying his doctoring bag, and Rilla dancing about. But Walter was gone now, and Jem who knows where. Nan and Di were working for the relief efforts, and nothing could ever be the same again._

_It had been an hour, so he rose up and moved slowly through the bushes. He could hear shell fire in the distance and knew that must be the line. He had to be somewhere in France, because he'd flown from Dover over Calais. Every time a leaf crackled or a twig broke he froze and waited for movement. If he could just make it to the line-_

Knocking jolted him back to the present. His eyes flew open and he looked around, disoriented until realizing he was in his room. He scrambled up. "Yes?"

It was Mother. "We called you for dinner," she smiled, "but I figured you were still working on those college applications. So I brought you a plate. Susan swears you don't eat enough."

 "Thanks, Mother." He was still breathing hard. To hell with college. Why had he made it through unscathed? Walt had died and Jem still bore scars from the prison camp.So why then was he still living with this -nightmare?

 He had never told anyone, save his C.O about that torturous night, when he'd made it to the French line by the grace of God. He had run through the dirty patch of field, bullets bouncing about him but none finding their mark. Finally, he saw a trench with what that looked like the French flag.

"Êtes-vous Français?" he'd mumbled, dizzy and thankful for the French-Canadian he knew.

"Oui, Oui! American, American.O mon Dieu!" An excited French corpsman had pulled him down into the trench in disbelief and examined him incredulously.

He was not really hurt. Shirley had a black eye, his neck was slightly singed and his arm a little scraped from the barbed wire on No-man's-land,  but all in all he was 'chanceux d'être en vie' - lucky to be alive.

Lucky to be alive. The words resonated within him.He was home, unhurt and, damn it, lucky. So why was he unable to move, paralyzed by fear whenever little Benny across the meadow shot clays or an aereoplane flew low overhead?

Ashamed of his own cowardice, he thought of Walter, whose going had really meant something. Walt would love to be going to college right now. But he was dead, somewhere in France, with only a white cross to guard him. Jem and Rilla married, the twins scattered here and there - why was he alive when the family needed Walter? No one wanted quiet old Shirley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Schnell = 'alarm' or warning in German  
> *O Mon Dieu = Oh, my God in French.
> 
> Anything you like or hated? Anything you want to see?  
> Don't forget the playlist: http://8tracks.com/somedaybeautiful/and-so-goodnight-a-walter-x-una-playlist


	3. hey, brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jem becoming a doctor is actually canon! It's on the third to last page of Rilla of  
> Ingleside.
> 
> In Canada and the U.K., the operating room is typically referred to as the operating theatre.

Jem pushed back his chair and grinned. "That was excellent, Mother and Susan."

Susan patted Jem's cheek affectionately. "It's just nice to have everyone home together and not scattered about. I'm so glad you can come home weekends." She sniffled suspiciously, dabbed at her eyes and retreated to the kitchen with plates.

Rilla and Ken, Faith and Jem, Nan, Di, Anne and Gil were all grouped around the big table in the Ingleside dining-room. The sun was just setting over the poplars. Dog Monday rested happily under the table, well fed and contented with his family.

Rilla's news had occupied most of the conversation, with the men slapping Ken on the back and the girls all hugging Rilla.

It was good to be home. Still, the life of a medical student called.

"I hate to eat and run, but we'd better get back to Redmond. Classes start early tomorrow!"

Faith hugged the girls and Jem shook hands with Dad.

"We're studying consumption in the laboratory. Your old notes were very helpful."

"Good! Have you decided on a specialty?"

Jem ducked his head."Well..."

"Ah, you've got a year to decide.  I'm pulling for surgery, though. You've got the makes of a born surgeon. Don't be a GP like your old dad."

"Old? Never!" Jem chuckled. "I'm going up to tell Shirl goodbye."

Faith laughed. "Good, I have time to show Rilla my thrilling new novel before we leave."

Jem rapped on the door. "Shirl? Don't work too hard, now."

The door flew open. "Don't call me Shirl!"

"Allright, Allright. Just came up to tell you go- Shirley!"

"What?" the younger boy queried darkly.

"You look - bad." Shirley's arms were covered in welts, almost as if he'd dug his fingernails in, and his eyes were reddened and bloodshot - from lack of sleep? Trying not to cry? Alcohol? Maybe all three! Jem's doctoring mind raced.

Shirley tried to make light. "Well, thank you, sunshine!"

"No, Shirl, listen, are you o.k?" Jem elbowed his way into the room they'd once shared.

Shirley hastened to shove a whiskey bottle under the bed but Jem saw it.

"Good night, that stuff's strong! We drank teaspoons of it to keep awake in the trenches. You're not drinking it all in a go, are you?"

"Please, Jem," Shirley said very quietly, "please go. I'm perfectly all right."

Jem remembered how much his quiet brother hated scenes. Last weekend he'd seemed fine, hadn't he? Perhaps he was simply reading too much into the situation. Must be college pressures getting to Shirl.

"Hey, Faith and I are going to scoot. We'll see you next weekend. And Shirley?"

"Yeah?"

"If you need anything, let me know. We've got to stick together now, we're down to two."

"I miss Walter," Shirley said softly. "I think he was braver than all of us, really."

"I think so too."

Neither one for much emotion, they patted each other's backs awkwardly.

"Don't worry too much about college, it'll sort itself out. We'll see you!"

 Shirley watched him go, thankful he assumed it was merely college worries.

* * *

"I need a resident,"  imposing Dr. Gailbreth yelled as he stormed through Men's Surgical. Jem was tempted to make himself as small as possible and crawl under a gurney, but he squared his shoulders and hurried after the Doctor.

"I'm a resident, sir."

"Any surgery experience?"

"Yes, sir. I've observed my father, a GP, many times, and more recently I've assisted in the theatre, sir."

"Stop with all the sirs, you aren't in the military anymore - unless you're considering army medicine. You've returned from the war, I presume?"

"Yes, s- sorry! Yes."

"Would've went myself if i wasn't so blooming old. There's always a need for doctors. You'll be in surgery with me today. You'll observe then assist."

"Alright."

Thrilled, Jem dressed in the white operating gown and began to organize the equipment. Scalpel, scissors, forceps, clamps, gauze, iodine, each thing had a place on the tray. Typically it would be a nurse's job, but they were more than happy to assign it to residents.

"Too slow," the doctor barked. "Steady hands are for the actual surgery, not organizing my tools." 

The patient was wheeled in, draped in sheets and already feeling the effects of the ether.

"Let's pray you can identify Waugh forceps from Cushing clamps. Forceps?"

Jem wordlessly handed him the Waugh forceps.

"No, you say 'forceps'. Hand it to me firmly."

"Forceps," Jem hissed through gritted teeth.

Once the incisions were made, the doctor gestured for Jem to take his place.

"What are you waiting for? Stitch him up."

Jem froze. What sort of stitches?

He looked to the older doctor for guidance, but the man gestured impatiently. "Uhh, I'll use the Cushing style stitches since we're using the Cushing clamps."

"Well, at least you're not a total loon. I hope you can tie off Cushings? "

"Yes, s- doctor."

He bent low and watched Jem tie each tiny catgut thread, using forceps and claps to manipulate the thread.

"That'll do," was the only praise Jem got, but he thought he did pretty well all together.

The patient safely to recovery, the doctor turned to Jem.

"Smoke break for me. You come along, I'd like to talk to you."

Wondering what on earth it could be, Jem followed him out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The late 1910's early 20's are so fun because its a time of great change. We get books like the Great Gatsby but also A Farewell to Arms, and all these new medical advances.
> 
> What do you think of this chapter?


	4. have Faith, doctor

"And then the doctor said he wanted me to take charge at a rural surgical clinic in America once I graduate!"

Faith smiled as her husband shoveled mashed potatoes onto his plate. They were one of the few things she had patience to cook- and they had actually turned out quite well. "That's wonderful, Jem. Perhaps you'll need a nurse?"

"Of course I will, darling."

Faith was in her last year at nursing school, studying emergency medicine. She loved the excitement. "Splendid. America will be an awfully interesting adventure! Do you know where yet?"

"His son's currently director of a rural medicine clinic in a place in upstate New York. They want us to help start by creating an operating theatre and explaining surgical procedures, and then take over the entire place when his son takes a new job."

"It's pretty far from dear old PEI. And I will miss Father and the family..." Faith's excitement was beginning to wane.

"It won't be for another few years, you know. As of right now it's just an offer."

"Certainly something to think about."

 "Certainly." They beamed at each other, and Faith took Jem's hand.

"I'm so blessed to have you," she said, trying to sound cheeful. "We were so worried, you know, last year..."

"It's hard to believe it was nearly a year ago," Jem said lowly. She kissed him on the cheek, and he looked at her earnestly. "I appreciate you letting me talk about the prison camp, when I first got back. You're a swell listener, Faith."

She traced the tatooed number on his tanned forearm with one finger. "I just wish you hadn't had to go through it at all. The whole time you Blythe boys and Carl and Jerry were away it killed me, wishing I could go. Rilla and I used to joke about dressing up as boys and bribing our way through physicals... Not knowing where you were was the hardest."

Jem was not one to stay pensive."If they allow women on the front someday, you and Rilla  _would_ be quite indomitable. Oh! I nearly forgot little Spider's news. Can you believe it? That child, having a baby. I ought to speak to Ken."

"Ken will take fine care of her, and you know it. She's hardly a child, anyways. Rilla's nearly twenty."

"I've reached the age where anyone under twenty-one is a child," Jem said dramatically.

Faith threw back her head and laughed. "You're just twenty-six yourself."

"Old and decrepit," Jen smiled. "Soon you will have to wrap me in blankets and feed me warm oatmeal."

* * *

 Altogether, Jem and Faith' s married life was filled with laughter. They loved their careers, each other, and their families.

Ken and Rilla's lives were every bit as happy. Ken was thinking of applying for the police academy put on by the Mounties every year, and becoming an officer for Glen St. Mary. He'd explained to Rilla that he wanted a profession that let him make use of his marksmanship and athletic skills but also let him help people, and this seemed like a good idea.

Rilla was just as beautiful as she'd been that night at the Lowbridge dance, and Ken swore he fell more in love with her every day.

 Pictures scrawled by Jims for her came regularly from England, and his mother always included a note on his progress. The four years spent carrying for him had helped Rilla prepare for housekeeping, and she had turned into a surprisingly good household-manager, though, as Susan had direly predicted, she was hopeless in the kitchen. 

 To Mrs. Blythe's delight, Rilla had taken up writing as a hobby, drawing on her detailed journals from the war. One of her little stories about Jims was published in an over-harbour newspaper, and no one was prouder than Anne when her daughter brought her mother her first published work.

Mary Vance still put on airs as a 'storekeepers wife', but who could begrudge her? Besides, she kept a large board in the store with Glen goings-ins tacked to it, and  Rilla's article, a news article detailing Jem's return from the prison camp, and Carl Meredith's discovery of a rare bug right in the center. She was fiercely proud of the Blythe-Meredith crew, and told everyone about them any chance she got.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think!!


	5. the women

 "Anne," Miss Cornelia/Ms. Marshall Elliot huffed as she climbed up the Ingleside porch steps without a hello, "Your Nan is acting rather scandalous."

"Oh?" Anne said, looking up from her Keats. "Do sit down, it's so lovely out."

"Gerald Meredrith (Miss Cornelia thought 'Jerry' a frivolous name) was dancing with her in the street. DANCING! Some gypsy was playing music and he stopped to twirl Nan about. Crutches and all. Isn't that just like a man?"

Susan pushed open the swinging door, drying her hands on a towel. "We should be grateful that blessed boy can dance at all, Mrs. Marshall Elliot," she said firmly, though she secretly felt it was rather spontaneous, injured back or not. 

Anne smiled at them both. "It's good for the children to return to normal. Though I suppose I must stop referring to them as children. Why, I am to be a grandmother- and to think my youngest will be the first to give Gil and I a grandchild!"

Susan beamed and returned to the kitchen. The baby was a source of great joy to her, and she was already planning booties and blankets.

 

"No one could tell your age, Anne, dearie," Miss Cornelia said with a kind air. "You don't look a day over thirty."

"I feel old," Anne said softly. "It feels as if we've all lived a thousand years."

"War does that," Miss Cornelia nodded. Then, feeling she must break the silence - "Miller and Mary are quite happy,so I suppose everything works itself out in the end."

"Yes, I saw them at the store just yesterday. They're exactly RIGHT for each other. It makes me happy to see couples like that."

"Mrs. Blythe?" Una Meredith stood tentatively at the gate.

"Hello Una, dear! Come right on up. It's such a nice evening, isn't it?"

Una smiled faintly. "Oh, yes. I love the dusk. I've brought Susan's receipt book back that she loaned me?"

"Of course, she's in the kitchen. You know where it is."

"Oh yes. Rilla and I have made dozens of cookies there for Junior Reds."

"She's a nice girl," Miss Cornelia observed as soon as Una went inside. "And an excellent housekeeper, I hear. I wonder why she's not married? If only she'd talk a bit more, put herself out there."

Before Anne could reply, Shirley came outside.

"Hullo, Miss Cornelia," he greeted without stopping. "I'm off for a jaunt in Rainbow Valley, Mother." 

"It seems you've a revolving door, Anne,"  Miss Cornelia observed dryly.

Anne laughed. "It was too quiet with everyone gone. I'm glad Nan and  Di are  staying the week. They're spending the night with an old friend tonight. And Shirley's here for a time, while he prepares for college. All the other children come and go frequently."

"Well, I'd best be going. Marshall will be looking for me. I suppose I'll see you at the Ladies Luncheon?"

"Yes, I'll be there."

 

* * *

 

It was already dark when Una came out. "Oh, dear," she said, taking in the inky blackness.

"Dr Blythe will be home with the car any moment, and he can drive you over." Anne ventured. "There must be a storm coming, it doesn't usually get dark this early."

"Oh, I couldn't bother him for such a short distance! If you have a lantern I could borrow, l'll just walk through Rainbow Valley. It's not far."

"Are you certain? I'll walk with you-"

Resolutely Una took the lantern and squared her shoulders. "I can see my house. I'll be fine."

"Alright. Goodnight, dear!"

"Goodnight, Ms. Blythe."

The wind was whistling through the trees as Una set off. She wished she had someone to come home to. Father and Rosemary couldn't understand why she didn't wish to stay with them and Bruce, but she wished to be independent, and not a burden. Her household science course was finished, but it had not proved much use- she was so deep in thought she nearly bumped into someone on the Valley Bridge.

She thought suddenly and wildly of the spirits that must linger here, where they had played as children, but realized it was merely an old friend.

"Shirley Blythe! You startled me."

"Sorry, Una. Whatever are you doing out at a time like this?"

"The storm - it got dark so quickly. I'm nearly home anyways. The night is lovely, and it's hard to be afraid when we have our Savior."

"I'll walk you home," he offered, taking the lantern. Una is like a gentle little sister, he will not have her go in the dark, even so short a distance.

Flushed, Una obediently followed, trying desperately to think of something to say. She hadn't really talked to him save church, and it was hard to talk to people, especially men.

"I haven't really seen you since," she began, trying to think. "Since you returned. We were all grateful you were well." 

He thinks of Carl's eye, Jerry's back, and Jem's time in the prison. "I was lucky," he says, a little too harshly.

They are walking up the path to her house; she turns in the lantern glow. "Not lucky," she says softly. "Blessed. God has a purpose for you - for all the boys. And the girls who went as nurses, too."

He is taken aback- Susan has said much the same thing, but hearing it from Una is just as unsettling. 

The hunted feeling is at him again, and he turns away. "Goodnight, Una. "

"Thank you for seeing me safe!"

"It wasn't a problem."

When she has shut the door he takes off running, lantern swinging wildly. If he can run all the way home, perhaps he can outrun this awful feeling. Maybe exhaustion will allow him to sleep tonight.

He clatters back across the bridge, through the mayflowers, up the path.

 _Dark night,_ _isn't it_ , the voice in his head asks _. Just like that night in France. That tree looks awful like a sentry. Are you sure you're safe?_

"Get thee behind me, Satan," he says aloud, using one of Reverend Meredrith's favorite Scriptural expressions.

He can see Ingleside, glowing welcome, and wills himself to it.

Mother is in her dressing-gown. "Shirley! I wondered when you didn't come back from the Valley!"

"I saw Una home."

"Oh, thank you darling. She wouldn't let me go with her. I fear she thinks of herself as a burden."

The sound of the motorcar in the driveway caused Mother to smile. "There's Gil! I'm glad we kept his dinner warm."

"Twins," Gilbert says tiredly, coming in with his bag. "Hello Shirley, Susan." He kissed Anne and hung up his hat.

"Something smells delicious!"

Shirley allowed himself to be drawn into the warmth and happiness.


	6. boats against the current

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [And so, goodnight. {a walter x una playlist)](http://8tracks.com/somedaybeautiful/and-so-goodnight-a-walter-x-una-playlist?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button) from [somedaybeautiful](http://8tracks.com/somedaybeautiful?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button) on [8tracks Radio](http://8tracks.com?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button).

  Days turn to weeks, and soon it is Christmas. Everyone returns to Ingleside- Nan and Di come from relief work in tenement slums, Rilla and Ken come from just over-harbour, Jem and Faith from college, and the Meredith clan joins them from all corners of the Earth.

Carl leaves the Amazon jungles, where he was studying poisonous frogs, Rosemary, Una, Bruce and the Reverend simply climb the hill, Jerry comes home from the city, and Mary Vance, who considers herself a Meredith and therefore included in Anne's invitation, drags Miller away from the store.

There will always be one empty space at the big table, no matter how many visitors Ingleside may recieve, and this Christmas is no different. Walter has a place set, his favourite cup dusted and ready, a book of Wordsworth by the placemat.

The boys cut down an enormous old fir and the girls decorate it with ribbons, popcorn and some ugly, ancient ornaments they have made in Sunday Schools past.

After they have read the Christmas story and eaten lunch, it is time to open the Christmas crackers, little paper cones with a treat inside. They are Susan's main vice at Christmastime.

Shirley gets a paper crown in his Christmas cracker, and Jem a comic strip. Rilla finds a little charm, Bruce candies... when everyone has opened theirs, Una is last. She finds a matching crown identical to Shirley' s. 

"Christmas King and Queen," Faith and Nan clap happily.

Una smiles and adjusts her crown. Shirley bows. Bruce laughs, "Sister is a queen!"

The afternoon is filled with do-you-remembers- Remember when Aunt Mary Marilla tried to tell us there wasn't any Santa? Remember the Christmas we all had chicken pox and Dad was on call? The boys remember their first war Christmas, and how they came over the trenches singing.

Shirley is pleased that there is not pain in these memories. Walt lives again through them. He joins in with stories, like the time he was to be spanked for peeking at presents but Susan rose up in outrage and hid him in the kitchen.

Ken is entertaining them all with a wild tale about Persis eating every single Christmas sweet when the doorbell rings once, loud and insistent.

"Who could that be, on Christmas?" Mother queries. "Maybe someone needs medical help," Dad suggests. He and Jem hurry to the door.

A man is standing there. "You've got to hurry, Doc Blythe. There's been a sledding accident."

The telephone rings and Mother answers it. "Gil," she calls down the hall to where he is gathering his medical bag, "they say there's at least three hurt."

"I just ran straight here," the man pants."Some lads on a sled hit an automobile."

Jem and Faith volunteer to go with Gilbert, as his nurse is out for Christmas.

Carl, Jerry and Ken are down in the Glen testing out the beautiful, shiny pump action shotgun Carl brought back from the Amazon. Mother and the girls hurry after Faith with warm blankets. Susan takes Rilla into the kitchen, insisting that excitement is not good for babies, even in this early stage.

That leaves Shirley and Una.

"I feel so _useless_ ," he says chokingly, not realizing he has spoken aloud. 

Una turns enormous grey eyes to him and nods in an  understanding way.

It is a surprise to him; what could she possibly understand? He has always hated great mushy displays of feeling. Oh, why did he even speak?!

She senses his attitude and speaks slowly, gently.

"I don't have a job or a family or anything to offer the world. But you can find hope in your faith, and-"

"Hope! Faith!" He is bitter. "I haven't given up on God, no, don't look so shocked. But how can He have any use for me? I am a coward and a sinner. Before the war I did whatever I pleased and cavorted with worldly pleasures. During the war I was frightened and promised God all sorts of things and now here I am." 

Una sighs. "When other girls got married or went away to school I was at home. I thought I was a burden to Father and Mother. Father told me that it was his duty to care for any children still at home; to not feel bad. But it was only Brucie and I left, and Bruce i _s actually_ a child. I am twenty. I should be married or studying somewhere or, or.... I don't know, doing missions in the Orient. But here I am."

"You were scared to go," he says knowingly, without any condemnation. He can understand.

"Yes," she agrees.

Susan bustles in then, with mugs of hot cocoa for all, and they say no more about it. The other boys return from the Glen and describe the shotgun in great detail, then the rest of the group returns from the accident and regales them with stories. "No one was really seriously injured, after all, but it was a great way to practices stitches..." "You were wonderful, Faith"... "And Nan, with that blanket cape..."

 _Focus on **this** , _the voice in Shirley's head says. _Focus on the now, what's real and right in front of you. Don't worry about the what-ifs._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember this Walter X Una playlist that gives you all the feels?  
> http://8tracks.com/somedaybeautiful/and-so-goodnight-a-walter-x-una-playlist


	7. tragic backstories

One of the village women leaned in conspiratorially.

"Ken has completed the RCMP police academy, dear lad. I worry that the little Ford boy will be overwhelmed by the red serge."

Ordinarily Susan would have bristled at such an insult to one of her own, but today she agreed wholeheartedly. To all the women of Glen St. Mary it did not matter that Ken was a decorated soldier who stood six foot three inches. To them, he was the little lad declaring his hatred for pants by ripping them off during Persis' baby dedication nearly twenty years prior.

Ken fretted to Rilla privately. "Let's say I'm investigating a vandalism. Here come all these ladies who know Mother and Mother Blythe. They start asking questions about you and the baby and how the family is and then I look down and d-you know what?"

"What," Rilla queried, laughing.

"THEY STEPPED ALL OVER MY EVIDENCE!!"

Rilla couldn't force a sympathetic look. "It's just-so funny when you say it," she protested through giggles.

Ken sighed and grinned. "I guess it is. But really, Rilla-my-Rilla, I'm ready for a little excitment that doesn't involve Bertie Shakespeare's missing cat or some boys stealing tinned peaches."

"It will happen, darling."

He kissed her and leaned in, one hand on her shoulder, other on her stomach.

"I hope it's a girl," she mumbled through the kiss.

"What are we going to call it? It can't remain 'it' forever."

"Well, we won't be calling her Rilla. I never liked my name."

"We could call it....Spider," he laughed, grinning wickedly before skipping out the door for patrol.

Rilla watched him go with some apprehension. Babies were a handful, but Jims had not been so bad and between the two of them they could figure it out.

But the having a baby part? That was entirely new and terrifying. She knew that Mother had lost a baby once, lomg ago, and it was something only whispered about in revrent tones. What if something happened? She tried to reassure herself that it was 1920, after all, things had changed, but the nagging feeling never left.

So she pulled on her coat and headed up the walk to Ingleside.

"Rilla,dear," Mother beamed. "Susan just made tea with honey, you must have known."

"My favorite, yes. Ah- Mother? Can we talk about something private?"

With one hand she gestured to the gaggle of women seated on the porch with Susan.

"Oh, yes, come upstairs. Now, is it about the baby?"

Rilla relaxed. Dear, sweet brave Mother, who always knew what you needed.

"It's perfectly natural to be concerned, Rilla. It does hurt, of course, but the pain is really quite minute compared to the beautiful baby. You know all the steps. And with all the medical ad--"

Rilla would have to be more direct. "Not about the pain, no. About  the baby you and Father had in the house in Four Winds."

Mother's hand flew to the heart-shaped locket on her neck and fluttered nervously. Nevertheless, she smiled sadly.

"Yes, dear. Joyce."

It felt strange to say her name. They always trooped out to the cemetery once a year and stared at the little marble headstone with _Joyce Blythe_ and the heartbraking date escribed and placed flowers. But reading and saying are entirely different, and it was as if Mother told a story with one word.

"I am scared," Rilla managed. "To carry a baby all that time and then-"

"It was devastating. To look at Gil- he was delivering, you know- and see his face..."

"He delivered her?" Rilla had never known. "How absolutely tragic."

"And I thought I was so prepared. I had no mother save Marilla, but i read books and sewed booties and questioned mothers I knew incessantly. So when she passed, I was crushed. I had done everything right and yet, she was gone.

People deal with tragedy differently. I talled with Marilla and Leslie and Miss Cordelia and that helped some. But Gilbert didnt' have a soul but me and I was too sad to notice. I'll never forget that night after she passed- he came in very quietly, after I was asleep, smelling of far more smoke than usual and whiskey on his breath."

"Father?!" Rilla was shocked. He had always been so strong, so- calm in every crisis. And he never drank, save holidays.

"He thought I was sleeping, but I woke when he came in. He had been in the study all the previous day reading medical books and conferring with doctors and nurses, so he was absolutely exhausted. He sat down on the floor and tried to light his pipe but his hands were shaking too badly. And then he said aloud, 'Why, God? What did I do? I'm a doctor, I'm supposed to know, damn it.' And then he cried so hard I thought he would break."

"Oh, Mother, I'm so sorry."

"Rilla, dear. What happened was terrible and tragic, yes. But I am so glad God allowed me one day with my little Joyce. She was so beautiful. I was scared when I found out I was pregnant with Jem, and look how he turned out. It is 1920. Had Joyce been born now, she probably would have lived. I didn't dwell on it each time I was pregnant, especially for Gilbert's sake. I just prayed and told myself everything would be fine, and it was. Your baby will be beautiful and everything will work itself out.

You can't change things by worrying or over-preparing, so don't. Let everything run its course. "

They embraced. "Thank you for telling me."

"Of course! Now, have you time to look over a little piece I wrote for a paper in Charlottetown? I so value your opinion."

* * *

When Ken arrived home that night, Rilla told him her fear and what Mother had said.

"Why didn't you tell me you were worried?"

"Well, I didn't want to be a little goose, worried over nothing."

"Rilla, if it concerns you then it bothers me, too. Do you feel better about it now that you talked with your mother? And I want you to talk to me about that sort of thing, too. I don't care what Ladies' Home says, some men ARE interested in babies."

"You're the dearest, nicest husband ever, even if you do call me Spider."


	8. smooth as whiskey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you noticed how LM Montgomery would have these chapters wholly centered on single characters in the later books? Like, here's a chapter on Walter walking home all night, filled with action and peril. Now let's bump right along to a happy story. Anne of Ingleside especially reads like a short story colletction. So, I wasn't sure how to make it flow like she did, I considered writing letters because the letters in Rilla of Inglseide were a lot of the action, but I can't write letters to save my life so here's an awful update for you.  
> TRIGGER WARNING FOR BLOOD/INJURY AT END OF CHAPTER.  
> Side note: We're quite familiar with America's prohibition in the 1920's, but did you know PEI was dry until 1948? Alcohol could be consumed if it was brought from other places but not sold or distilled. This is a good place to learn more: http://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/maritime-drug-smuggling-and-rum-running/

"Prohibition has brought nothing but trouble for us Mounties," sighed Ken one night as they were readying for bed. "I don't see how America and our own PEI intends for it to last. But I do know if I see another report on alcoholic beverages I shall scream."

Rilla frowned and leaned back, onto his chest."I hear rum-runners are using our Canadian border lakes to access America. Will you have to be posted there soon?"

"PEI is not without its share of bootlegging, even though we are so small. I hope that I can deal with it and that we are to stay posted here at least until the baby comes."

Rilla brightened. "We need to move the Ingleside crib down. It has weathered all of us Blythes and is still in good condition. And I thought a neutral yellow or white for baby, and then we can accent it with whatever color best suits him or her."

"We really must pick a name for _him_. What about Kenneth Ford, Jr?"

" _She_ will not like to be called Ken. Other girls will tease," Rilla laughed as she turned down the lamp.

The hall telephone rang shrilly then and Ken rose to get it. Rilla watched him go and thought of her father, also on call all hours of the night. Of course, Ken's calls were not babies or pneumonia, they were often mysterious and frightening until he returned to explain everything and reassure her. She sometimes wished she were out with him, in the dark and exciting night, catching criminals and solving things. Other times she was glad to not be out there. This was one of those times. She was content to be home on this night, with the wind blowing eerily and no light, not even star-shine.

He came back into the room, pulling his shirt off a chair and buttoning it on in haste. "A suspected rum vessel off the east coast. There are only a few places it can put ashore because of all the rocks- well, you know how the coves and marshes are there. Hopefully we can beat the runners to their drop point on the coast and catch them as they unload."

"Do be careful! I'll wait up."

"Don't think you have to, I may be rather late." He kissed her quickly and pulled on his red jacket.

Rilla watched the lantern bob in the darkness until it grew to a small dot. Then she settled down to wait. It might as well be time to get some writing in. She could write about something exciting even if she couldn't be out doing it!

* * *

Ken's sergeant greeted him by handing him a pistol. "There's a few dinghys near Mahaffey's  Cove. We think they're unloading the goods there and smuggling it throughout PEI, and using the cove dropoff point to pick up loads and deliver them to coves in the States. A holding place of sorts, and they should come ashore any moment now."

"How many men are we taking?"

"Just us, unfortunately.  The civilian who tipped us off was military police in the War and has offered to provide some backup, but other than him, no one. Our force here on PEI is low and the other Mounties were called to Charlottetown to guard a visiting head of state."

"That's alright, we can handle it, sir. Let's get there before they do."

It was not far, and they walked to draw less attention. It was very dark and the night was silent, without even crickets to chirp. Only the waves lapping at the marsh-grasses and the wind rustling- then it came. The faint creak of oars and the muffled whisperings of men drifted over the water.

Bending low, they crouched in the grasses and watched the men expertly land on the sole sandy spot, avoiding the rocks. There where three boats, all heavily weighed down with crates that must contain alcohol. As Ken's eyes adjusted to the darkness he noticed all the oars were wrapped in sailcloth, obviously to avoid noise. He counted at five men and shot a worried look at the sergeant, then realized that was no use in the dark. 

"Think we can take five?"

"We have the element of surprise, but let's wait until they start unloading into that cave. Then they'll have their backs to the rock with less escape points."

"Alright."

Carefully they moved closer, moving as  slowly as possible to avoid noise.The rum-runners unloaded swiftly, carrying crates into the rocky underhang as fast as they could unload them. When they were all under the rocks, the sergeant moved quickly, fluidly, motioning for Ken to follow closely.

Outside the cave, they stopped and drew their weapons.

"Mounties! We have you surrounded! Come out with your hands up!"

Muttered curses from in the cave. No one comes out, however, and Ken wonders if there is a tunnel behind it or if the men are just taking their sweet time deciding what to do.Then there is noise, and shots, and he fires blindly, for it is too dark to see in the dim light. Something nicks him in the leg.

The next thing he remembers is seeing his sergeant fall, and turning to him, before he himself is knocked to the ground by one of the rum runners. The wind is knocked out of him; he struggles to breathe and watches the bootleggers. All except one seem scared - they are not truly prepared for a life of crime. They're just a bunch of rag-tag small time criminals who like the risk and the quick money. But the leader- there is something hard and cold about him. He must be the one who organized them, who has trained for this.

"I don't want to kill no Mounties," a man who has been shot in the arm says. "Word gets out about that, they'll all be combing the place for us."  

The obvious leader, standing over Ken, considers this. By this time Ken has regained his breath enough to raise himself up a little, and sees the blood pooling from Sergeant Thornton's torso. He moves to get to him, but the leader cocks his pistol and points it at Ken, whose own gun is lying somewhere to the left.

"Help him and watch what I do."

For a reckless second Ken imagines he is back in a trench and starts to move, but he comes to his senses and thinks of Rilla, and the baby. The leader rests his boot on Ken's chest. If Thornton is still alive Ken is not going to let him lie there. It was so foolish to rush in like this- and stupid on his part for blindly obeying the sergeant. Still, one rum runner is down and one badly wounded, so that evens the odds a bit. He tries to speak but his mouth is full of a bloody phlegm.  He wants to rise and spit it out but the man's boot is mashing into his chest so he has to let it dribble down his chin.

"He's dead," one of the men tells the leader after examining Thornton.

Ken hopes he is wrong, but then a bloody chest is not a good sign. He clenches his jaw and tries not to show any emotion. Though he had only known him for a short while, older man had been very kind to him. He is mad at himself, now. Was the war not excitement enough? He just HAD to choose this career?

"Well, kill the other, then?" One queries and Ken cannot help it.

"Rilla," he gasps, involuntarily.  He does not mean to say it- it is only the thought of being torn from her in such a manner. How can he leave her? She is strong and independent; he does not fear for her financial future or safety. But the thought of leaving her, hurting her like this? Perhaps he alone knows what damage Walter's death did to her. And then there's the baby. Little Spider, he thinks fondly. It will not know him.

"What's that," the leader sneers, peering down.

Their eyes meet and there is a sudden glimmer, a flash of recognition. The man is from Lowbridge; he and Ken went out on the same troop train together. Ken tries to remember the man's name and fails; all he recalls is that the man lost all his money in a card game and then won it all back before their ship even left the harbor. 

 "Let's go," the leader tells the others, and they hastily reload the boat with as much whiskey as they can. He lets his foot off of Ken and Ken breathes in sharply, feeling the cold night air. "We'll leave him, it's not like he's going to go for help."

Then they are gone, the oars slipping away. Ken realizes what they met about going for help when he tries to stand, and his leg buckles beneath him.  The bullet must have done a little more than nicked him. He crawls in the sand to Thornton, and is feeling for a pulse when the man who gave them the tip arrives, carrying a shotgun.

"You're late," Ken manages.

"My God, " he says, looking from the dead rum-runner to Thornton to Ken's bloody leg. "I- I'll get a doctor."

"Get Doctor Blythe," is the last thing Ken remembers saying.

When he wakes up again Dr. Blythe is there, and he is on the couch in the doctor's office at Ingleside. Ken tries to speak.

"It's all right, Ken," Dr. Blythe says kindly. " Rilla's here." And with that Ken lets himself fall back into a sort of fatigued sleep, knowing that everything will be okay somehow. He thanks God for the girl he loves and her family, and then he closes his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I'm so sorry I took forever to update!! I got accepted to a great pre-med school and that's kept me pretty busy, but I'm back to shirking responsibilities and fangirling again over break.  
> GAHH this chapter was so bad. ughh. Better update next time, and hopefully much less wait.


	9. if you love me don't let go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh. I never intended to wait this long to update! Since my last writing I've been encumbered with school, wisdom teeth, a tornado and a small writing position for a magazine. It's been crazy but I do apologize for the wait :( I love every one of you kindred spirits ❤

When Ken wakes again, Rilla is beside him, one hand holding his and the other on her stomach.

"Oh, darling! You're awake."

His head is fuzzy, but he remembers everything. It is only the speaking that is hard. 

He squeezes her hand and tries to ask about the sergeant. "Thornton?"

Rilla turns to her father, who shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, Ken." Dr Blythe's voice is strong but his eyes are tired. 

Rilla holds his hand so tightly he can feel her nails digging in. He realizes she is afraid to let go. 

"I'm alright, Rilla-my-Rilla," he whispers. 

She nods. "I'm very glad," she says, trying to smile at him. 

Shirley and Mother Blythe and Susan are all in and out, and a nurse, too. The only figure he focuses on through that long, terrible night is Rilla. 

In the morning he is conscious of Dr. Blythe checking his leg again. He had not noticed the pain the night before, perhaps he was on a sedative.

Before he can form words, the doctor is gone again, and he looks for Rilla. She is asleep on the little sete in the office. Someone has tucked a blanket around her. With the early morning sun forming a glow around her, he thinks she looks like an angel.

There is a knock and Shirley is there with coffee. "Don't let father or Susan catch me, but I know it's your one vice..."

"Bless you, man," he says, waking fully, and they share a smile. Ken downs the whole cup and hands it back.

"Do you know how bad it is? My leg, I mean?"

"I just brought blankets and manned the telephone, " Shirley explains. "I didn't overhear anything medical, I was in the hall the whole time. I did speak to someone from the Mounties' Headquarters. The phone rang off the hook with their calls. The police want to come down." 

"Oh, God, an inquest. I bet I'll have to explain it all again."

Shirley blanches suddenly. "It's awful, isn't it? Having to remember and explain every little detail, when all you want is to forget?"

"You had to...?"

"Yeah, in the war, I was in a bit of a situation, there was an inquiry- but no matter. It's  all behind me now."

If Ken were himself, he would have sensed the pain in Shirley's eyes. But at the moment he was sleepy again, despite the coffee, and his leg hurt.

"You'd better take the mug back. Thanks very much."

"Anytime," the younger man says, slipping back out the door.

Rilla sits up and looks around with the confusion of sleep. "Ken!"

"It's alright, love. I'm here, and I'm feeling fine."

She gets up and puts her arms around him, having to bend awkwardly over the couch. His shoulder is bruised, and he thinks it will hurt, but she is so gentle he does not feel it. 

He phrases his question quickly. "My leg, Rilla..." What if he is to be like Miller Douglas? The thought makes him want to cry out. Where is the doctor? Why has no one told him anything?

"Father re-set the bone while you were unconscious. It was broken. And you were nicked all over with lots of bullets. It's Providence that they weren't deep."

A broken leg is not so bad. He can walk again in a few weeks! Gratitude fills his heart.

"Father had to rush off to treat a patient, which is why he didn't tell you."

Her explanation makes sense, but why is she still so somber? Rilla is sensible, she would not cry when she knows he is fine. And Dr Blythe had seemed quiet, too.. .something is wrong. Why were there so many people in the room last night?

"Dearest, is there something else?"

Her eyes feel with tears. "Oh, I wasn't going to tell you, you've had enough stress and shock-"

"RILLA," he gasps, fear making his voice sharp and hard. He does not like the way it sounds.

"It's me," she says in a tiny voice. He is confused, he had thought he had another injury or something.... 

"Well, me and the baby," 

God, no. No, no, no.

"I had some spotting," she says, all in a rush. "I woke up last night to go to the bathroom and it was quite a bit of blood, so I came straight to Ingleside and father. That's how I was here when you were brought in. They were listening for baby when the call came in you were hurt."

"Is it-was it-" He cannot bring himself to say the word 'miscarriage' for fear it will be true.

She shakes her head. "No, just a lot of blood, and the heartbeat was very faint. Father says I need to lie still and avoid stress. It's possible we could lose..."

"I understand," he says quickly, so she does not have to say it aloud. Then they are both in each other's arms again, her laying beside him in the couch. The tears running down her face mingle with his, and pretty soon he is certain he has no tears left. He cries because of Thornton, and for poor  Rilla, having to endure all this in one horrid night, for the pain all over him now, and for the baby whom he may not ever get to meet.

\------------------------------

Things get better, little by little. Isn't the darkest hour just before dawn? The Mounties' research is swift and Thornton is buried with full honors. Ken doesn't have to testify much and when he does it helps to know it is bringing justice to the smuggglers. All except the leader have been caught. 

His leg heals slowly, and just when he is ready to throw the crutches into the harbor, he is finally able to take faltering steps without them.

Either Mother Blythe  or Susan is at Ken and Rilla's constantly, making meals or tidying up or caring for both of them. Ken is still weak and Rilla has to lie very still. 

Every so often Dr Blythe or his nurse come down and listen for a heartbeat from the baby and check Ken's leg. 

Rilla and Ken  spend their first anniversary sitting in bed together, eating toast with jam and taking turns reading aloud from Stevenson's Kidnapped. 

 Everything is so much more bearable when they are together.

* * *

 


	10. ain't we got fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wow an update after almost a year   
> I’m so sorry please don’t hate me   
> Ily all

_"Ev'ry morning, ev'ry evening... Ain't we got fun? Not much money, Oh, but honey, ain't we got fun?"_

Faith Meredith hummed along as she dusted the little apartment she and Jem rented near Redmond.

Medical students were definitely poor, but they could have some fun, couldn't they? Last night all their friends had come over and they played games til nearly midnight. Then back to study and get up early for surgery rotations!

Jem came in, whistling. "There's my favorite girl."

"Hi darling. How were rotations? Oh, I don't like being on different schedules, I don't get to see you as much.”

“They went well. Say, Faith, how d’you feel about big cities?”

“They’re exciting for a bit but then grow dull and noisy.”

”I’ve had an offer to work in a research lab in Toronto.”

”Toronto? Research? Jem, darling, your passion is surgery!”

”I know, but I’m rather good at research, and this is a fascinating opportunity. A war buddy of mine, Frederick, is researching diabetes mellitus in Toronto. He was our unit’s surgeon and smart as a tack. I’d like to assist him, and we work well together. It’s such exciting stuff, this diabetes research.”

”Oh, Maime Leon died young from diabetes last summer. It’s so sad that there isn’t a single cure.”

”So-would you be willing to spend some time in Toronto? I don’t want you to feel as if you’re jeopardizing your career.”

”I’m sure they need nurses in Toronto too. And I’d follow you to Toronto or Paris or the Moon, Jem.”

They embraced, each filled with an inexpressible hope and excitement for the future.

 

* * *

 

“Dad? How would you feel about me stating here another year?”

Dr Blythe set down his pen and looked at his son.

“Shirley! You got into all those colleges and yet you still want to wait?”

” It’s called a gap year, loads of Americans are taking them nowadays.”

”But I thought you were so eager to get back to school! The war interrupted so much.”

”I don’t really know what I want to do,” Shirley murmurs.

”College isn’t for everyone, son. I suggested you stick with flying since it seemed like you loved it.”

”I will never fly again,” the boy says so harshly Dr Blythe stares.

”Um. Ahem. I don’t have a way with words like your mother, but I know illness when I see it. What’s bothering you? Does your head ache?”

”No. Dad, if you’re really against a gap year, I’ll pay you rent with my pension. I just don’t want to do much of anything right now.”

“You won’t ever have to pay me rent. I just feel you’re wasting away. You sit in your room or go for walks with Una and Bruce Meredith. That’s not very stimulating for someone with your talents. You could get a good job without college as an aircraft mechanic -“

”I don’t want to work with planes!” Shirley turns to leave but Dr Blythe puts his arm out.

”What’s really wrong? Jem told me at Christmas he was worried about you and you’ve seemed quiet and withdrawn lately.”

”Nothing. Please, I’m just being lazy and enjoying another year in home comfort.”

”Fair enough. But Shirley, you used to be crazy about planes, and you also used to have such drive and ambition.”

”I used to be a lot of things!”

* * *

 __Shirley storms out and to his room, but within an hour he is running down through Rainbow Valley. Una is standing on the little bridge; she turns to beam at him. “How are you today?”

“Fine. I like your dress.”

He really means it, too, it’s not just a way of changing the topic. It brings out her grey eyes and - and....the sensible cut keeps it from getting muddy.

”Thank you! I made it with a pattern from Nan, but I had to buy the sleeves and sew them on.”

”You don’t blush when I compliment you anymore.” 

He’s being terribly forward but he wants to be real with her. He lies to everyone else, all the time, and she has become the only constant he knows.

”Oh. I guess... I’m comfortable with you.” She turns and looks at him, almost coyly if Una could act coy. 

It is true that they’ve spent time together almost daily. All they do is walk and talk, but he feels pieces of his soul heal each time.

“I’m spending the night at Father and and Rosemarys, and in the morning I’m teaching a class in town for embroidery. We’re learning French knots! I’m making Rilla’s baby several new dresses. Would you mind terribly walking me there?”

”Not at all.” He jams his hands in his pockets and they walk in comfortable silence. He drops Una off at the church and turns back towards home. It’s ominously dark and rain is starting to drip steadily down.

He glances towards Rilla and Ken’s and sees her on her porch waving. 

“Shirley!”

”Hey Rilla,” he musters halfheartedly. Una will bear his oddities but he doesn’t really want to see anyone else right now. Still, she looks lonely so he turns back. No sense being selfishly mopey.

”How’s the baby today?”

”Kicking so much! I feel ready to burst, but Susan says nice girls dont talk like that.”

”Any day now, huh?”

”Yes! I can’t wait but I’m honestly a little scared too. Good thing Dad and Mother live close.”

He smiles and stoops to pet the cat while she keeps talking at the speed of light.

”I’m so glad you stopped by, could you help me move those jam jars down? I can’t reach that high right now and Ken’s over harbor for a weekend training”

”Of course. Ooh, marmalade!”

She laughs. “I just made cracked wheat bread - strangest cravings- and was fancying some marmalade as an after dinner snack. Won’t you have a slice?”

”Sure,” he agrees. “Gosh, look at the rain come down.”

”I know. You’d think it’s midnight instead of 8 pm. Did Dad and mother get off to the station alright? ” Rilla asks, wiping jam off her mouth.

”Yes, they’re on their way to the conference, but Dad and I had a little row beforehand. He doesn’t want me to take a gap year.”

”Oh, why would he— ahhhh.”

There is a strange, brief  splashing sound. “Is the roof leaking?”

Rilla looks at him, eyes wide as Susan’s china saucers.

”Shirl- I think my water broke.”


	11. Be my baby tonight

Shirley can  _feel_ his eyes widen like they do in books. 

“Oh. That’s bad.”

”It’s okay,” Rilla says, partly to reassure herself. “I’m just going to lie down for a second and think about what to do.”

 Thunder booms and lightening crackles just then, as if to add dramatic effect. Shirley and Rilla stare at each other for a frightened moment.

“The baby-”

“I’ll telephone for help.” He picks up the candlestick phone and listens for the operator but here’s only dead air. He jiggles the phone again.

“Storm knocked the goddamn line out. Rilla, I’m going to get Mary Vance or someone else  who’s delivered a baby, and find a phone to call one of the overharbour doctors...”

There’s a crack as the enormous old oak in the front yard splits in two. They both yell a little, him in surprise and her in pain.

“You can’t go out in that.”

“I have to, you need help!” He helps her to the bedroom.

“No, Shirl, what if you can’t get back? There’s going to be downed trees everywhere. Besides, the ferry won’t run in it so there’s no way of reaching a doctor. Please just stay…I don’t want to be alone.”

He can’t argue with that- he wouldn’t want to be alone in this storm,either.

“Yes, so uh, what do we need to do?”

“I think I just wait til the contractions get closer. See, right now it only hu-owww-rts every once in a while.”

“We need Dad or Jem,” he says grimly. “I’m not going to be of much use.”

“Oh, they’d patter around doing medical stuff, but that’s not much use when I want to be distracted. I’m glad you’re here, you won’t judge me for crying and cursing.”

“It isn’t ladylike to cuss,” he murmurs in a perfect imitation of Susan.

She laughs. “Have you ever seen a baby born? Have you any idea what to do?”

“No. But I kind of know- sort of- I mean, I’ve been with girls-“ he blushes.

“Oh, don’t worry, I can do all the work myself. Just can’t have you fainting at the sight of anything scandalous. I suppose some Frenchwomen took care of all that? OWWW!”

“How’d you know-“ he begins and catches himself. “Hey! They just needed…companionship.”

“What’s it like in a French- you know, house of sin?”

“I don’t think Susan and Mother would of approve of this,” he says uncomfortably.

“Oh come on, you’re supposed to be distracting me. Mary Vance heard the French women built special places just for entertaining soldiers.”

“There’s um, a lot of mirrors, and candles,” he says finally.

She giggles. “Oh, you’re too embarrassed. Sorry. Tell me about something else, then. It has to be dramatic or scandalous-ow...”

“I’m not sure I know of anything debaucherous enough to make you forget about the fact there’s a human coming, y’know, out of you.”

She yells in pain and he feels guilty.

“Um, I know! Once Mary Vance, Faith and Jem broke into Mr Meredith’s study and got drunk on communion wine. It was an “accident” -they swore they thought it was grape juice. They got caught walking around hiccuping with purple mouths.”

”Ha, ha! When?”

”When they were 13.”

”Old enough to know the difference between wine and juice! That is good and distracting. What did father and mother do?”

He’s about to explain when she manages, “I think something’s happening now.”

”Like what? What do I need to do?”

”I’m just going to put my legs up like so, and keep waiting. Don’t look so scared, you can stay in the doorway. I’ve got some medical experience. Lead the junior reds during the war; you know.”

”You’re being very brave.”

”I want Ken,” she whispers in a tiny voice, as if scared to admit it.  “And I’m not brave. Shirley, I’m terrified. I don’t think wild stories can help anymore.”

“It’s going to hurt, but then you’ll have a great, beautiful baby.” Gosh, this is awful. He has no clue what to do, and he’s scared to move into the bedroom for fear he’ll see something. Why won’t the storm let up?

”No,” she says, crying harder. “I don’t care about pain. It’s not that. Dad hasn’t been able to find a heartbeat the last check up. What if I do all this work for- nothing? What if my baby isn’t alive?”

She is working herself up and shaking. “It’s SAFE inside me. I don’t want it out where it might have something wrong with it. I won’t be able to bear it if it’s stillborn. I want Ken and I’m scared to face it without him.”

”Rilla-“ he crosses the room to her, fear of gross-ness momentarily forgotten. Her anxiousness is something he can relate to, something he can help. He doesn’t know babies but he sure as hell knows fear.

“Rilla, whenever I’m really scared I just remind myself where I am.”

”How does that help?” She sweating and stopping to yell every now and again but he doesn’t think it’s time yet. He pulls her hair back with the pins on the table and takes her hand.

”Rilla, listen. Sometimes I get scared about...things I saw and did when I was over there. When I can’t stop thinking about them I try to look around a remind myself how good things are in the here and now. See, you have Ken and a nice house and a tidy room all ready for baby. You’re prepared.”

”And I just made bread.”

He laughs with her. “Yes! You even made snacks.”

”We’ll get through together.”

”Yeah. Look, I think I need to get help, Rilla. I know you don’t want to be alone but I’m just going to run to the Meredith’s and back since they’re closest. I won’t even wait for whoever’s there to get ready-“

”Please don’t go.”

There’s a pounding on the door, and they both jump. Was it a falling tree?

No, there it is again, insistent. 

He leaves the bedroom and opens the front door. Una practically floats in, wrapped in a headscarf and dripping from head to toe.

”UNA!”

”Hi, Shirley,” she says, perfectly calm as if she hasn’t just walked through a hurricane.”I came to check on Rilla since she’s home alone in this storm. I suppose we had the same idea?”

“Una, you could have been killed,” he gasps, handing her a blanket off the couch and wringing our her scarf.

”I know it’s a risk, and you can laugh if you want, but I really felt like I HAD to come. God just put a feeling on me.”

”I don’t know what to say but that I’m glad you’re here, Una. She’s in labor.”

”Now?”

”Yeah, oh. Una, oh God. I’m so thankful you came.” He realizes he’s taken her hand and drops it quickly. “Come on, Rilla’s in the bedroom.”

Rilla is just as surprised to see Una as he is. 

“Oh, darling! You came all this way in that storm?”

“Rilla, when the Lord tells you to go,  you go. It seems you and Shirley are  doing really well. Now, let me check your progress.”

 

It seems like they wait all night for the contractions to become closer together. Finally, when they are a few minutes apart, Una asks, “Shirley, why don’t you get Rilla some water?”

* * *

 

Una finds him in kitchen. 

“Shirley,” she whispers, low and urgent. “I think the baby’s going to be breech. That’s what’s taking so long. ”

”Isn’t that when it’s turned funny? And isn’t it dangerous?”

”Yes. She needs a doctor and hospital care immediately-“

”Una, there’s not anyone but us. The ferries aren’t running and Dad’s out of town at a conference this weekend.”

”Well,” she says, squaring her shoulders, “let’s go deliver a baby. I pray I can do it right. I’ll need your help.”

”Of course, Una, just tell me what to do. I - know you can do it.  I trust you.”

Rilla is gasping when they come in. Una takes a seat on the bed and pushes Rilla’s knees up. “Shirley, can you hold Rilla’s hand and calm her a bit? It’s very important she doesn’t push for a few moments.”

”Yeah, here-“ He holds Rilla’s hand and wipes her face. “You’re doing so good. Just think how surprised Ken will be when he gets back.”

”I can’t do it.”

”Yes, you can. Remember what we talked about earlier. Looking where we are. See, I’m not in France anymore. I’m here with you helping a baby be born!And you’re in a cozy house with friends. Just look at that fine cradle. You even have baby bedding ready.”

”Now,” Una says,her voice wavering a little with nervousness , “you need to scoot Rilla to the edge of the bed.”

He does, and Una beckons him to her. “She needs to push baby just a bit, and baby’s legs will dangle. Then she shouldn’t push anymore.”

”OH, I see. And gravity will help the head and shoulders be born?”

”Exactly. Shirley, you ought to be a midwife.”

They laugh tersely. He resumes his place at Rilla’s side. “Push once really big, then hold off for a bit.”

Una’s hand finds Shirley’s free one and squeezes. They wait with bated breath. Slowly, there’s legs, then Rilla cries out. 

“No, dear, don’t push for a minute.” Una moves back towards the end of the bed. “I see shoulders,” she says happily.

”So good. Oh Rilla, your baby has real nice shoulders.”

Another breathless moment. 

Then there’s a whole baby in Una’s arms, squalling and yelling. Rilla sobs. 

“Rilla, don’t cry, it’s a healthy little girl.”

”I’m just so happy- I have to cry, I held it in the whole night.”

Una looks around. “Do we have scissors? I think we need to cut the cord.”

”Here’s some.”

”Does that look right? I’ve never cut a cord before, Shirley.” 

“Neither have I.”

”We make a good team,” she says, cutting it neatly and handing the baby to Rilla.

”We did it,” he cheers.

Una wipes her hand over her face. “I’ve seen lots of babies born but never delivered one.”

”You’re a top hand,” he says gratefully as they head to the sink to wash up.

“You were doing fine on your own. And Rilla did the hard part.”

”Listen,” he says suddenly. It’s quiet outside, save for pattering rain. 

The storm has stopped. Una starts to cry. 

“You, too,” he says, bewildered. “Do all girls cry when they’re happy?”

”I didn’t think  we could do it. Rilla’s one of my dearest friends, and I was so nervous... Carl was born breech. That’s what happened to my mother...”

” Una, you did so well. The baby looks fine and now that the gale’s stopped we can get the professionals. I’m proud of you. Not many people would march through a hurricane for their friends.”

”It was you as well, Shirley. You were a great help. Most fellows would be too mortified. But you’re not like the other boys.”

”Una, you amaze me.” And then, somehow, he is holding her to him, his hand cupped around her head and another arm about her waist.

They break free after a moment, each staring at each other wide-eyed. How on earth did that happen? 

Then Una beams. 

He smiles back, feeling better than he has felt in a long time. There was a storm and he made it through without noticing the thunder. He has delivered a baby. The girl of his dreams has just given him a smile that has a thousand meanings.

And outside, the dawn is breaking, a beautiful grey-orange.

 

 

 


End file.
